


The dragonfly it ran away, but it came back with a story to say

by handholdinglion



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier feels very strongly about things, M/M, Multi, No Beta, Poor Eskel, Pre-Relationship, but also not MCD, its kinda MCD, its mild but its there, trust me there is always comfort after my angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handholdinglion/pseuds/handholdinglion
Summary: It asks him, "what do you need, young faeling?"And he looks at the two men, the grieving witcher, shoulders shaking in silent agony, one hand pressed against an arrow wound to the heart. And he focuses on the sounds of anger and malice and hatred and morbid glee that surround him, the sound of three more arrows being knocked in their bows.And he replies, "kill them, save him."And it did.orJaskier finds out he's a fae when someone tries to take his witcher from him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 195
Collections: Geraskier Holiday Exchange 2020





	The dragonfly it ran away, but it came back with a story to say

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the-spinning-jenny on Tumblr for the Geraskier Secret Santa, based on the request Creature Jaskier.
> 
> I hope this isn't too angsty for you, as soon as I saw the prompt the idea stuck and I couldn't shake it.
> 
> Title is from Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men.
> 
> (I am going to read over this again tomorrow to check for any spelling and grammar issues, my apologies if it's a mess!)

The scream that tears from Jaskier’s lips as three arrows embed themselves into Geralt’s chest was obviously not human. If he was more aware of his surroundings, the bard would probably be wondering what the fuck is going on. Instead he is focused on the surge of energy currently forcing its way through his body, which is an incredibly unpleasant feeling. 

It feels as though the core of him is burning, like he is somehow just a vessel allowing this energy to pass through his usually fragile feeling body, while also somehow being the source of this energy. 

As the strength of the energy begins to fade, his attention now turns to the sensation currently rolling over his skin. Jaskier feels like he is growing, expanding, shifting, being remade in slow motion. Some of his muscles shift, moving or flexing in his shoulders and the middle of his back as a huge weight is lifted from him and suddenly he can take his first breath of fresh, clean air.

But the air isn't clean or fresh, it’s tainted, it’s wrong, it smells like blood. Jaskier’s eyes fly open and he’s looking up at a canopy of trees, very tall trees, trees he could swear weren’t there a moment ago. There’s a sound, well there are many sounds, he can hear many things all around him, especially close to him, there is anger and malice and hatred in the sounds around him. 

But instead of focusing on those sounds he focuses on the sound of sorrow, of heartbreak and loss and mourning, it best resonates with the sounds inside of him. Jaskier straightens his head and takes in the sight before him. He knows these men, he knows the man who cries out in sorrow, cradling his brother-in-arms against his chest, begging a dead man to come back to him.  _ Geralt… _

_ Jaskier sees soft, gentle smiles and a body huddled next to his around a fire. He smells roast hare and warm, spiced cider. He feels a forehead against his own, a witcher’s shiver, breath against his lips, an almost kiss. Almost... _

Something brushes the inside of Jaskier’s head, a soft voice, a kind voice, a voice of something that wants to help. Somehow, though he’s not quite sure why, Jaskier knows this to be the voice of the forest, the voice of the energy that ran through him, that came from him.

It asks him,  _ what do you need, young faeling? _

And he looks at the two men, the grieving witcher, shoulders shaking in silent agony, one hand pressed against an arrow wound to the heart. And he focuses on the sounds of anger and malice and hatred and morbid glee that surround him, the sound of three more arrows being knocked in their bows.

And he replies,  _ kill them, save him. _

And it did.

There’s a rumbling noise and the ground beneath them shakes, Jaskier should be scared but he’s not, he’s safe, they’re safe. Instead he stands and turns to face the threat to him and His head on.

Around him the roots from the large trees launch from the ground, soaring through the air to pierce thin skin and free blood from monsters veins, letting it drop freely to the ground.

The beings that have chased him for three days scream, first in outrage then in agony as the forest turns on them. Birds swoop down to peck at flesh, wolves summoned by Jaskier’s cry circle and play with their prey before clawing and biting at the bodies of those beings that wished them harm.

Jaskier’s blood cried for vengeance, his bones, his heart, his soul, and the forest answered his call. He gave it his anger, his grief, his heartbreak, his sorrow and let them power it to do his bidding.

The faeling turns quickly at the sound of Eskel’s gasp and his eyes are drawn to a glowing vine that slither from the ground at the Witcher’s feet. The vine makes its way towards one of Geralt’s hands that rests against the forest floor, and curls into his palm for a moment, allowing the glow to grow stronger before moving further up his arm.

A similar glow can be seen flowing through the tree roots after they have cut through the bodies of the beings in the glade. Curious, is it death or life powering the soft, golden glow?

Both he and Eskel panic as the vine pierces their witcher's skin, and he feels himself close the gap between them quickly, ready to remove the intrusion from Geralt’s skin before he feels the forest's soothing touch once more.

_ Save him!  _ It explains, urging him to watch as a steady glow began to make its way up the witcher’s arm before slowly spreading to the rest of his body. 

Tension he wasn’t aware he was holding rolls off Jaskier's body as he lets out a soft breath, pausing for a moment before moving to kneel opposite Eskel, eyes trained on Geralt’s body. He’d left enough space between himself and the witcher in the hopes to calm him, somehow he can sense Eskel’s unease to his presence and he gets the feeling that if the larger witcher was not currently holding onto Geralt’s body he would be getting some untrusting looks right about now. 

“Jaskier what--” Eskel croaks, clearing his throat quickly before trying again. “What’s happening to him? Is he--?” 

Jaskier can hear the unasked questions between them and he hums softly, considering his words carefully before answering. It wouldn’t do them any good if Jaskier was to express how equally confused he is by this current turn of events. 

He seems to be coming back to himself now, whether it’s because the agony of Geralt’s death has been soothed or because the forest has loosened its grip on him he isn't sure. To be honest Jaskier doesn’t even know if the forest did have a grip on him, or if all this madness has been his doing and he’s not sure he really wants to know the answer just yet. He just hopes Eskel won’t ask any detailed questions before they can get out of here.

“The forest told me it's saving him.” Jaskier replies, his own voice hoarser than he’d expected. He must have damaged something with all the screaming.

Eskel turns to him suddenly and with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion he can definitely see another similarity between these two witchers, it's almost adorable. His thoughts are brought back to the present as he watches Eskel’s face morph into something that looks almost like fear before he schools himself quickly. 

_ What the fuck has happened to his face? _

He has already caught sight of the brown feathered wings that must be sprouting from his back, and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if some kind of transformation hasn’t occurred in the places where he’s been scratching at himself since they entered this forest. But it must be worse that he’d thought if a  _ witcher _ is scared of him,  _ fuck. _

Jaskier opens his mouth to ask Eskel to break it to him gently but cuts himself off as he hears a loud gasp fall from Geralt’s lips. 

Both he and Eskel turn their attention back to the man on Eskel’s lap at the sudden sound, and he struggles to hold back a sudden wave of tears as he hears what he assumes is Geralt's heart start to beat steady and strong in the witcher’s chest.

“Holy fuck.” Eskel whispers and  _ fuck _ his eyes looks just as wet as Jaskier’s.

“Geralt?” he asks, and fuck  _ his _ voice is shaking now too. 

They don’t have to wait long, just another second or two, before Geralt’s eye’s flutter open and he meets Eskel's gaze, his brows furrowing in a silent question to his closest friend who minutes ago was mourning his death and  _ fuck! Jaskier can’t take it anymore! _

He can feel the tears rolling down his cheeks as his shoulders begin to shake, fingers clutching at the dirt beside him as he finally allows his worry and his grief out. Jaskier can't even stop sucking in air in great big sobs as both witchers turn to look at him, Geralt’s gaze going wide in response to his transformation before he reaches a shaking hand out to rest it against his bard’s knee.

“Hush now Jaskier, it’s okay.” and Jaskier knows Geralt is trying to comfort him but the sound of his witcher's raspy voice only makes his sobs worse.

After letting himself wallow for a moment and giving the witchers a moment of privacy, he composes himself once more, lifting his muddy hands to dry off his cheeks.

“Well this is going to make for an interesting ballad!” He jokes, smiling widely at the two men in front of him before hissing as the action causes him to cut his lip. 

What the  _ fuck, sharp teeth too?! _

Eskel just laughs at him, holding Geralt close as the chuckles wracks his body. 

“Are you, Jaskier?” Geralt asks, untangling himself from Eskel slowly so he can sit up. The witcher glances down at the vine slithering away from him and the small wound on his arm in obvious confusion before turning his attention back to Jaskier.

And it's such a Geralt question, such a sweet and kind and honourable question from the best man he knows, from the man he almost lost, from the man he loves. That Jaskier can’t help but lean across and press a soft kiss to the witcher's cheek before pulling away once more.

“Yes Geralt, I’m fine.” and they share a moment, a sweet and intimate moment where they just stare at each other fondly. Geralt either ignoring or uncaring of the small feathers on Jaskier’s cheekbones and the large pupils of his too blue eyes and the fangs that stick out from his lips and the fact his bard has grown almost five inches taller and the fact his skin is now tinted green and the wings. and Eskel watches them both with a fondness of his own as his hand rests on the small of Geralt’s back. 

And it’s all completely lovely, until Jaskier opens his mouth again.

“Though, to be honest Geralt, I would be much better if I had something to eat and also possibly something to drink? Oh gosh, it's a shame we finished off all that cider isn’t it Geralt? I’m sure Eskel would have loved it. Oh, and a bath! a bath would be nice don’t you think? Just imagine…”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a whole prequel section to this fic that I decided not to post this time because it really did not fit with the way I'd written this part, so I might edit that and post it at another time as an extra. But for now I thought it best to focus on wonderful Fae Jaskier.


End file.
